Your Sweet Devil
by Blue Bell Sky
Summary: Alfred is a sweet demon from the underworld and Arthur is a young exorcist. They meet, but Arthur doesn't realize that Alfred is a demon because he's kind of new at the whole exorcism thing. SweetDevil/Gothic AU. USUKUS
1. Chapter 1

The town was deathly quiet. Ominous clouds cast their sinful spell across the sky and selfishly shrouded the sun, keeping its warm rays to itself. The buildings loomed tall over its hidden residents, blackened and slacking with age. Each told a story of their own, etched all over their crumbling walls, but those tales are for another time. This is a story of the shadows that hid beneath the stone buildings. That peeked their ugly heads around the darkened corners and looked when you weren't looking. That tiptoed their way down the streets and hovered along beside you.

This is the story of a young exorcist named Arthur Kirkland.

* * *

He was kneeling in front of the altar with his head bowed and his hands clasped together, pressed against his lips as he muttered under his breath. The words were incomprehensible to most, blended into a jumble of complicated phrases in a seemingly complicated language, but to him the sentences that were spilling from his mouth were so familiar and practiced that he could recite them in front of the Lord himself.

And that is exactly what he was doing.

_Bless this Holy land and its people today with Your watchful eye_

_Grant them health and plentiful harvest_

_Protect them from sin that beckons in our streets_

_Replace their fear with the confidence in Your word _

_And lead them toward their righteous paths. _

_Amen_

He kissed the silver cross that dangled from his chest before pushing himself to his feet. He bowed slightly, looking up at the white marbled statue that looked back at him with the same empty expression. He rolled his shoulders then turned on his heel.

Arthur would have preferred to stare at the empty statue. The view that he was met with when he turned was hollow, stale with dust and darkened from lack of sunlight. The little light that leaked through the enormous glass windows that surrounded the church illuminated the gently floating specs in the air, urging his nose to sneeze. Everything that was not window was black. The walls looked like iron, but he knew it was probably made of something else. Rubbish and dead leaves littered the grey floor and crunched under his feet, even when it appeared he had stepped on nothing. The room was completely empty, with not a single pew or a soul to sit in one. A rat cowered in the very far corner and quivered when he came near.

He supposed he matched the church perfectly. He himself was of a pale complexion and hollow from lack of proper nutrition. His robes were entirely black, down to the hidden trousers and shirt and even the knickers underneath. So young, yet already so old, he held himself tall and proud, and he looked magnificent; but he was really nothing on the inside. Empty.

Arthur's footsteps clicked loudly and upset the dust settled on the ground. All was still. The quiet was ear piercing.

And suddenly a hum emerged from the quiet, low and unnoticed, until it grew so loudly that Arthur's teeth rattled and the very walls seemed to tremble with stress. Then he realized to his horror that they _were _trembling, that the ground beneath his feet were shaking and the window panes swayed back and forth to the monstrous humming. Instinctively he grabbed his cross and hunched over himself on his knees, not before seeing the windows finally crash and thousands of broken shards fly out in every direction. A torrent of wind poured out of the exposed windows and further scattered the deathly sharp objects. Many hit him, colliding into his body as if they were stone instead of a small piece of glass.

When the quiet returned and he dared to lift his head, the light that penetrated his eyes was blinding. The room was a disaster, but he was no better off. His naturally unkempt hair had been further tousled and dead leaves and dirt nestled its way into the blonde strands. His clothes were torn at places and his neck and cheeks were cut, blood bubbling out in tiny blotches. But he hardly noticed.

He had felt it. That familiar sensation. It made his stomach churn and his hands tingle and his heart squeeze tight. It made the cross burn against his cold chest. He knew this feeling. Better than he knew himself.

Something was coming.

That's when he heard the door creak open. The massive wooden entrance parted away and someone crept through the opening, quickly shutting it with a loud echoing _bang_ and resting their head against it gratefully. His back was facing Arthur.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur shouted to the stranger. The man was probably hiding from whatever just happened, but Arthur took an offensive stance and held the cross out in front of him. "This is a house of God. Are you here for sanctuary?"

The stranger startled and turned to face him, hands now pushed against the door as if trapped like a caged mouse. His movements were jumpy and unnatural and he panted harshly.

"Yeah…sanctuary. That's it." He didn't sound convinced. He was still backed against the door. Arthur took a moment to take in his appearance.

He was in rags, basically, covered in soot and dirt as if he'd spent the whole day cleaning out his chimney. Smudges of the grime spotted his face and darkened his true skin color. His hair was blacker than a raven's feathers. All of this made his eyes pop out dramatically, blue and deep and the only color on his entire body.

His teeth were certainly not British.

The stranger was still shaking when Arthur began to walk towards him, averting his eyes to the glass covered floors. When Arthur reached his hand out he flinched and shut his eyes.

"Relax, child." Arthur said softly. This man was likely only a few years younger than himself, but Arthur was no old timer. His hand rested on the other's shoulder. "All children of God are welcome here. You will be safe. I promise."

The seconds ticked by before the man relaxed his muscles and opened his eyes. "Promise?"

Arthur hesitated; the place where he touched him was burning, searing hot in Arthur's fingers despite the clothes barrier between their skin. He locked eyes with the man and saw a flicker of something that made him feel nauseous. He shook the feeling away.

"Yes. I swear in His name that you shall be safe here."

For now, he thought. Whatever had caused such a catastrophe hopefully wouldn't be able to break down the colossal church any more than it already had.

A brilliant white smile broke through the man's lips and he lunged forward, embracing Arthur with lung crushing strength.

"Thank God, thank God, thank God, _thank you_," he whispered over and over again.

The exorcist was startled by the sudden contact and immediately pushed the other away. He caught himself quickly though and apologized. When no other words were said, he let his eyes fully take in the disaster around him, not allowing any fear to seep in to be exposed to the stranger.

Arthur asked if he knew what had happened. The man thought then mumbled something about an earthquake. He started.

"An earthquake? In _England_?"

Beginning to flush, the color barely showing through the dirt, the man flailed a little bit. "U-um, yes, you see, with all of the shaking and such, erm…"

He didn't finish his sentence. "I see. I guess that makes sense. The bending windows surprised me though. It must have been a powerful one."

Silence. The man shifted his feet and crunched some glass under him. Arthur had long since moved past him to the wide double doors. "There is a room in the corner next to the altar with a bed and a washroom," he called behind him. "You may stay there for as long as you like."

"Aren't you going to ask my name?"

Arthur stopped in his steps and turned, smiling. "I am not. It is none of my concern, nor does it matter what your name is here. You have sanctuary." He opened the doors, letting more light flood out. "But you can tell me a nickname if you like."

The stranger stared at Arthur's back as he left, a sweet smile curling onto his lips. Right before the doors shut, he whispered,

"Just call me your sweet little devil."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it's so short, it's just an introduction. Anyway I was inspired to write this story because of two pictures I saw on tumblr drawn by Kisufu. They were too perfect to not write about. I hope you enjoy it! **


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm SO sorry, but this is very historically inaccurate. I've done some research but I just can't...ugh. Anyway enjoy.**

Part II

It was raining. Nothing but a drizzle, but rain nonetheless. Rain that blackens the sky and drenches the air with humidity. Rain that spreads sickness but moistens dying flowers. Everything was slick with wet, and not a soul was on the streets, as it always was.

Not a soul, except for one.

* * *

Arthur was patrolling the barren pathways, eyeing every moldy window and dark alley that all but flickered. He held his black coat above his head to keep dry, but he still shivered. Winter was fast approaching and evidence of dying life was everywhere, yet that did not keep him from his job. He had a reputation to uphold and pride to keep intact.

What he was doing was patrolling the streets for any signs of trouble. It was also a matter of reassurance to the people, so that they knew they were being protected from harm and could sleep well at night. What they didn't know was that the unseen danger was actually quite visible to them, but in the form of shadows. Shadows being anything from a thief in the night to the ugliest creature your nightmares could imagine. Arthur could see them, see those creatures in their ugly forms for what they truly were; demons. They were real. And they walked right beside them every day.

Despite Arthur's care to watch over everyone, despite their ignorance, they are still frightened. They can feel it, maybe not as strongly as Arthur, but they can feel the evil in the air, in the darkest corners of their homes and the faintest glare of a shadow behind them, so they stay hidden, buried in their blankets with their eyes shut tight, thinking that if they can't see the monsters then the monsters can't see them.

They couldn't be more wrong.

Arthur has seen many. They are ugly, disgusting, and terrifying, but to his surprise, none have ever attacked him. None have ever harmed a human, none have vandalized a home or ruined someone's crops, and none have ever possessed a body and used it for witchcraft. Sometimes they steal things like bread, or something that catches the sun in a pretty way, but Arthur sees no harm in that. They just watch.

It has been three days since the incident at the church. He has asked around about an earthquake, telling of how the glass at the church bent like water then shattered, but none knew anything. There was no earthquake, no tornado, no sudden onslaught of wind. So now he was sure of what it was. His challenge had finally come. He would finally be able to exorcise his first demon.

Now if only he could find it.

As time passed as he walked, the rain began to lighten up and the sky became somewhat blue again. He was approaching the street market, and the first little shop he came by was a bread bakery. Small and cute, the shop smelled strongly of yeast and the warmth of the oven, wafting past the counter and enveloping Arthur, heating up his bones that have been chilled for days. He inhaled blissfully, then quickly dug into his pockets for any spare coins. He found none.

It wasn't as if his job didn't pay well. It paid better than most, but during these harsh times in England, there were scarcely enough money to go around for anyone. With the church being abandoned he was receiving no donations and had all but vanished from the King's view. He was just lucky that he didn't have a family to feed.

But the longer Arthur stood there the more tempted he became. A new batch of bread was simply sitting there, beckoning to him. He looked around; The people were scarce as always, and the owner of the shop was nowhere to be found. His stomach growled. Slowly, he reached his hand out for the bread.

But just then the owner came out with a bag of flour in his arms, eyeing Arthur suspiciously. He retracted his hand in a flash and smiled sweetly, complimenting the bread, then left with a bitter taste in his mouth.

He headed to the church, for he had nowhere else to go now.

Arthur had already informed the local carpenter about his windows. It would take weeks to fix them, so in the meantime he had to sleep away from the main hall. He had already gotten used to his new room. Which reminded him of the stranger.

He had yet to leave the bedroom. All he did was sleep, and the exorcist had thought that he was gravely ill. He felt his skin again, remembering how hot he was to the touch when they first met, but he felt normal. He decided to give him a bath the minute he woke up.

A little irritated, Arthur returned to his church and pushed through the heavy doors. With the windows gone, the large hall was even more of a mess, filled with rain water and dirt and cold that flew in from the giant gaping arches. He looked up at the high ceiling, studying the archways that were supporting the roof and the flying buttresses. They seemed sturdy enough to hold their place, for the moment.

He made his way to the back room. With a sense of guilt, he thought of how the stranger had not eaten in several days, and he had not come back with a single loaf of bread for him to eat. Arthur wondered how much longer he would live at this rate. Would he ever wake up?

But when he opened the back door, the man that was revealed was sitting on the bed, bouncing slightly and humming. He looked like a child.

"Oh, hello," he said, turning to greet Arthur. He smiled brightly, his ocean blue eyes sparkling. "I thought you'd never come back!"

Arthur was so stunned that he was not lying in bed that he did not respond right away. "Of...of course I'd come back." Then he remembered. "How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Are you ill?"

The stranger stared back, then made a loud swallowing noise. Arthur noticed the loaf of bread in his hands.

"How did you get that?"

He stared silently with no expression, then lifted the bread to his mouth and tore a piece off with a growl. He looked like nothing more than a savage animal.

But when he swallowed again he smiled, genuine and bright, and offered the loaf to Arthur. "I can hear your stomach rumbling. You can have the rest if you want."

Arthur looked at the bread and salivated. Taking one last glance at the man and given a nod of encouragement, he lunged for the bread, stuffing it in his mouth and swallowing before he could taste it. His throat hurt a little bit but he sighed happily.

Then he realized that he had acted like a starved peasant and blushed furiously, excusing himself several times. The man just laughed cheerfully.

"See! I knew you were hungry!" he chirped.

Quickly he straightened his pride and glared at the man. "That is the last time I will stand for such behavior in my church. You will eat with dignity." Arthur gave a final nod and retrieved the pitcher of water, where he poured it into the pot over the furnace.

"Now you will take a bath and clean yourself up, since you seem to be healthy enough. I could smell your stench from the meat market."

Suddenly there was a burst of laughter behind him and he turned to see the man laying on the bed having a fit, smelling under his arms every now and then and his laughter returning with full power. Arthur wanted to laugh with him but stopped himself.

"You are loud. Quiet yourself."

After a few sniffles and stifled chuckles, his laughter died and the stranger sat up. "So can I tell you my name now?"

Arthur returned his attention to the heating bath water. "Only if you want. Names aren't necessary here." He thought for a moment, then looked at the man again and made up his mind.

"But you may call me Arthur, the Exorcist."

The man grinned. Arthur noticed how sharp his canines looked.

"Sweet name."

He stood.

"Call me Alfred."

He approached Arthur and they were very close, leaning into the burning fireplace. The man leant closer.

"Or... you can just call me your shadow." He smiled sweetly.

Closer, he leant closer, it was burning, too close, until...

* * *

_To be continued..._


End file.
